


i need you: kryozgaming and smii7y

by sinah



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Overdosing, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 22:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16732104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinah/pseuds/sinah
Summary: smitty gets an unexpected call from one of his best friends.warning: implied suicidal thoughts





	i need you: kryozgaming and smii7y

Smitty sat in front of his screen, staring blankly at the editing software laid out in front of him. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand how to use it—he had been editing his own videos for far too long to not know his way around a computer. He tapped incessantly on his desk, glancing at the time. 1:07 am. This was his prime time, the hours of the day where he could lose himself in cropping videos and adjusting audio until Sarah would slip into his studio with disheveled hair and two cups of coffee, forcing one into his hands and planting a kiss on his cheek. He usually would smile his thanks, and take a few sips before letting the rest of it go cold.

 

Tonight was different. A heavy sense of unease settled over him like a thick blanket. His eyes refused to focus properly on his glowing screen, no matter how hard he rubbed them or how fast he downed bottles of energy drinks. He even tried on Sarah’s glasses, much to her amusement, but they just gave him a slight headache. She laughed at him and suggested he go to bed. Smitty just slipped back into his workspace, his mind buzzing. He shifted constantly in his seat, unable to find a comfortable position.

 

Leaning back, he grabbed his phone with one hand and unlocked it, scrolling through his texts and reminders to see if he had missed anything. His search proving fruitless, he tossed his phone to the side. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, unsettled. He had work to do--he had to snap out of this, and fast.

 

As Smitty pushed himself forward and reached for his mouse, he heard a faint buzzing sound coming from his feet. Looking down, he saw his phone vibrating into the carpet. He reached down with one hand and flipped it over. John’s hilarious contact photo took up the whole screen, bringing a slight smile to Smitty's face. Smitty picked up the phone and allowed the call to go through, holding the phone up to his ear.

 

“John! What’s up, brother?” Smitty said into the device, lifting his voice a little to cover the anxiety he could hear lurking in his own tone. John’s calls usually made him smile, but to his confusion, the pit in his stomach grew heavier.

 

Silence.

 

“John?” Smitty called. “Did you butt-dial me? It wouldn’t be the first time.” It was still quiet on the other end. Smitty listened for a few seconds, then let out another sigh, letting his voice drop again. “John, you butt-dialed me and I’m busy. See ya.” He waited a few more seconds, and then reached to press the end call button.

 

“Wait.”

 

His voice was quiet and hoarse, and sent chills running down Smitty's arms. Smitty pressed the phone closer to his ear, resting his elbows on his knees. “John?”

 

It was dull for a second, and then John spoke again.“Smitty…I’m scared…I’m going to do something that I'll regret.”

 

Smitty believed him.

 

He could hear the desperation in John’s words, cutting through the air like shards of glass. John was much too quiet, much too reserved. Every phrase, every syllable was carefully pronounced. It was not the John he knew.

 

“John, listen to me,” Smitty murmured, his heart pounding. “Whatever you’ve got in your hands other than this phone, drop it. Drop it right now.”

 

He didn’t think it was going to do anything. He had hoped that it wouldn’t. The sound of something crashing to the ground echoed over the phone, and there was the sound of hundreds of little objects rattling against the ground and spilling, flowing across a hard surface. Smitty felt the familiar feeling of anxiety wrapping around his chest, merging into his nerves. It made his hands shake so badly he almost dropped the phone, his breath beginning to come in short pants.

 

“Tylenol,” John read, a twisted laugh worming itself into his voice. “Take two of these, and it’s supposed to ease my pain. Anything from stomachaches to migraines.” His voice wavered for a split second. Smitty didn’t remember slipping off of his chair, but he found himself kneeling on the floor, resting his forehead against the edge of the seat. He knew he should tell someone, anyone, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear the phone away from his ear. He had the strange feeling that if he did, John would tear himself away too. Away from the world. Away from Smitty.

 

“John, those aren’t going to help you. I need you to move out of the room you’re in. We can talk this through. Hell, I can even catch the next flight if you need me.”

 

“I don’t—“ John’s voice caught in his throat, and he cleared it. Stopped for a moment. “I don’t know if anything can help me at this point, Smitty. I don’t know. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”

 

“I need you, john,” Smitty confessed. He could feel his heart beating in places he had never imagined feeling a heartbeat: behind his eyes, in the back of his throat, in his lungs. He swallowed thickly. “Please don’t go. I need you.”

 

There was silence. It pressed against Smitty’s chest, the pressure increasing the longer he heard static coming from the speaker.

 

“John?”

 

“Go on.”

 

John's voice was quiet, but something had changed ever so slightly in his tone. Smitty slipped back into his chair, typing at his computer with one hand. He pulled up a travel website and frantically scrolled through tickets.

 

“My life wouldn’t be the same without you. You’re one of my closest friends, one of the few people that I feel like I can actually trust. I need you because you’ve always been there for me, and now I need to be there for you. And if you leave, there will be a gaping hole in my life that won’t ever be filled because I love you, John. I love you like a brother. I love you so goddamn much and this sounds gay as hell but I mean it in the most sincere way possible because you are a light in my life.”

 

“Smitty,” John began. His voice was raw and full of pain, but Smitty didn’t stop.

 

“You are one of the most important people in my life. You mean so much to me, but you’re also what keep some people going, John. Your fans love you. I see some twitter accounts that respond to your every tweet. Your videos are the reason some people wake up and force their way through their day. You aren’t just John. You’re an amazing friend, a role model, an internet sensation. and people love you.”

 

Smitty was crying now. He kept his voice low so that Sarah didn’t hear him, tears choking his voice. His hands shook badly, and he used his arm to wipe his eyes with one hand.

 

On the other end of the line, he heard john sniff.

 

“Please, John. Let me help you. Hell, I can fly over there right now. There’s a flight that leaves in two hours and I am more than willing to drop everything and leave for you.”

 

A long pause that kept Smitty’s heart racing. Then, “I’ll see you soon.” Soft and subdued.

 

John hung up. Smitty stumbled to his feet and ran out of the office, wiping his face with his arm as he grabbed his jacket and fumbled for his keys. He closed the door quietly behind him, locked it, and jumped in his car, wasting no time.

 

Four hours later and Smitty was pushing past passengers to get off of the plane, ignoring the sharp words being hurled at him as he shoved his way to the front. As he waited for the plane door to open, he resisted the urge to yell at the staff to hurry up. A flight attendant slid past him with a polite _excuse me_ and stood by the door, waiting patiently with a plastic smile pasted on her face. Smitty shoved his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot against the ground.

 

“Did you enjoy your flight?” the woman said pleasantly.

 

 _I need to get off this plane right now._ “Yes, thank you.”

 

“You look like you’re in quite the hurry,” she commented, glancing at his incessantly tapping foot.

 

 _My friend’s about to kill himself._ “I’ve got…business.”

 

The attendant opened her mouth to make more conversation, but the door slid open and Smitty was flying through the walkway before she could say another word. The airport was painted a hospital-white and smelled flat, with too-bright and too-cheerful lights.

 

He ran down the escalators and skidded to a stop in the baggage claim, his heart in his throat. He spun around, searching for a familiar face, that mess of silvery blonde hair that Smitty knew so well. Two minutes ticked by. The flow of people smoothly parted around him like water around a rock.

 

He wasn’t there.

 

“Smit?”

 

Smitty spun around, his breath catching in his throat. John stood with his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixated down on the ground. John shuffled, clearing his throat to speak.

 

Smitty tackled him in a hug before he could even utter a word, John staggering backwards in surprise. He felt John trembling underneath him, his friend's breath catching in his throat. Smitty gripped him tighter, and John sank into his embrace, burying his head in Smitty’s shoulder. He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and sniffed.

 

“I’m sorry,” John said, his voice wavering.

 

“You don’t have to be,” smitty whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”

 

Smitty heard John repeat the phrase under his breath, muffled into Smitty’s jacket. “It’s going to be okay.”

 

_It’s going to be okay._


End file.
